


Of All the Lives I Lived

by atomicnebula



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, M/M, Modern Era, One Shot, Reincarnation, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-20 23:29:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14271900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atomicnebula/pseuds/atomicnebula
Summary: I'm currently in the middle of writing Song Bird, and it was frustrating me, so my girlfriend proposed I walk away and work on something else. I had a piece written from awhile ago and I wanted to incorporate it within this one shot. So it's really short and it's kinda cheesy, but it contains a piece of my heart.





	Of All the Lives I Lived

**Author's Note:**

> I'm currently in the middle of writing Song Bird, and it was frustrating me, so my girlfriend proposed I walk away and work on something else. I had a piece written from awhile ago and I wanted to incorporate it within this one shot. So it's really short and it's kinda cheesy, but it contains a piece of my heart.

_"...I remember the love in his eyes, the soft grey that I stared into for hours and hours day by day. Over time the light changed from fight to love. I remember how he looked at me the first day we met. Anger, fear, spite. Soon he softened, and he showed me love every time he looked at me. I remember the love in his eyes as it faded. His warm hand resting on my jaw, rough but gentle from years of abuse. I can’t remember what his voice sounds like anymore, but I remember how it felt. I remember how it felt when he told me he loved me. Even when he told me he loved me for the last time. His body was small but solid and fit so easily in my arms. I held him this way many times before, but this would be the last. He stared up at me, trying to hold on, telling me he loved me and that everything was going to be okay. But that should have been me. I was his support, but he was humanities strongest and he took that role with an iron fist. Being strong, not only for me, but for all of us. In the face of mourning, death, and destruction, he held his head high and led all of us forward to another day. I remember saying I love you for the last time before the rough smile faded from his face and the light drained from his grey eyes, how they faded so fast. I didn’t have time to say goodbye. I didn’t have time to realize how heavy a burden he carried as he became heavy in my arms. He always told me I was strong, but I wasn’t strong enough for this. I knew one day that this would come. I hoped and prayed it wouldn’t come so soon. He carried that weight for so long. And now I’ll carry it for him."_

 

I never though I’d get to the end of my book, after years and year of fighting all my memories. Body after body I was finally able to make sense of it all and write every memory I still had. I think the worst part was how my memories were triggered, at the age of fifteen, I lost my mother in a horrific car accident. My therapist told me I had PTSD, but the memories didn’t quite match up with the accident. After that I found the studio I seemed to live in each time, it was always empty, just waiting for me to return. There I kept all my memories, each life bringing more. I’m now twenty-nine, getting to where I’ll be the rest of this life. I’ve spent too many years in this life destroying myself, it took me far longer to find my way back. I started writing all of my thoughts down, each time, each time I had the slightest grasp on my first life. Now, I finally have almost every piece of the puzzle. I decided the write a book, hoping that in the next life it will find its way into my young hands. It would make the transition easier, honestly… I’m hoping it will fall into the hands of him. Who I’ve searched for, for years I cannot begin to count. History books told our story wrong, his was not always the captain everyone feared. Although he wore a rigid expression, behind closed doors, he was mournful and loving. He held me in his arms, fearing it would be the last. He feared he would lose me, but in the end, I lost him. And I’ve been searching for him ever since.

I ran my hands over my eyes, they were dry and sore, writing the ending took me far too long. I don’t know how long I’d been staring at the screen, but my stomach told me it was time for food… and maybe a walk. I could walk down to the café, my usual spot, the whole staff knew me well and knew me by name. I hit save on the computer before stiffly rising from my chair. I stretched and popped my arms, fingers, and legs. I even got my hip to pop when I reached down to slip my shoes on. Maybe I was already getting old.

I made my way down and out onto the busy streets of the city. The busy chatter of busy people zoomed past me. I dug into the pocket of my jacket for my earbuds, only to find that they were there. “Mother fucker…” I mumbled, knowing well it was own fault, they were still sitting on top of my dresser. There was no point in turning around anyways, I’d have to deal with it. I have no clue why I decided to have a studio in the middle of the city, but it’s where I’ve resided for many lives. No point in changing it now.

“No, I don’t…”

Who was speaking so loudly? No… it wasn’t loud, it was clear. Out of all the chatter on the streets, why did that one voice still out? I quickly scanned the crowd around me. Nameless faces passed by as I tried to find any sort of familiarity. I couldn’t remember voices, I remember the way they said their words, but never the sound of their voice.

“… Don’t be a brat…”

My heart picked up. Something about it. Something about voice made my blood run cold and made all the hairs on my neck stand stiff. I pushed through the crowd, trying to find the fading voice, getting well-deserved complaints and threats. I mumbled “sorry” and “excuse me” as I found my way through.

I stopped dead in my tracks, as if I hit a wall.

It was him.

It had to be.

Every life, we seemed to look the same, with small varying differences. I still had bright green eyes and dark brown hair, which I kept messy. But I was a bit taller and I held myself differently, among small details. I was still me.

Before me, stood a short angry man with his back to me. Surprisingly he also had the same undercut, and he still held himself the same. Strong. Proud. A leader, with all the weight of the world on his shoulders. He still spoke with fire on his tongue, yelling at whoever was on the other end of the phone.

“… Cap–… Captain Levi!” I yelled over the noisy street, hoping it was loud enough for him to hear.

His hand tightened on his phone and his shoulders visibly tensed. He quickly dropped his phone from his ear and turned his head. His deep silver eyes searching. “Eren?”

I felt the tears sting at my eyes, I refused to cry right now. “Yea… Yea it’s me.”

“Eren…” He rushed over to me and didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around my waist and bury his face into my chest. “I can’t believe it… you can’t be real.”

“But I am, I thought I’d never find you.” I felt like my knees were going to give out, my whole body felt as such ease. It had been so long. Too long. “God, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.”


End file.
